DISSENT: The Student Press in 1960s Australia
SALLY PERCIVAL WOOD
Scribe, 2017, 310 pages
Review by Phil Shannon
Dissent didn’t obey strict
decade-demarcation lines on Australian campuses in the radical 1960s, writes Dr
Sally Wood (historian, Deakin University) in DISSENT: The Student Press in 1960s Australia. In 1961, for example, university students
were still mostly from a privileged background and a largely conservative lot
in their attire (“jacket-and-tie and short-back-and-sides” for the young men
and “stiffly coiffured hair, twin-sets and skirts below the knee” for the
women), in their music (classical and jazz rather than rock ‘n’ roll) and in their
politics as they placidly read their rather anodyne student newspapers which
mirrored rather than challenged the establishment press.
This non-threatening stasis
was impolitely disturbed by the rapid government expansion of higher education
to meet the intellectual-worker needs of a modernising Australian economy. The consequent infusion of new, working class,
student blood recharged a student body that was much less deferential to the
mystique of the ivory tower and more ready to challenge the social and
political orthodoxies of the age. A more
subversive uni rag was at the forefront of this campus transformation.
Wood opens colourful time-capsules
of the opinionated articles, heated editorials, energised letters and crazy
cartoons from the revitalised student press, covering censorship, sexual
liberation, homosexuality, abortion, Aboriginal rights, the Cold War, an
anti-Stalinist socialism, poverty and housing, education reform and the
environment. The slaughter and lies of
the Vietnam War, and conscription (which took one-fifth of twenty-year-old
Australian men in a ‘Lottery of Death’), in particular, signalled the high-water-mark
of student publishing dissent.
Some issues were slower to
take flight. It wasn’t until 1971 that Adelaide
University’s On Dit ‘Bird of the
Week’ page became extinct as female students threw off their ‘Miss University’
sashes and took control of their bodies.
One year later, purged by the Women’s Liberation Movement, On Dit had became the only Australian
student newspaper admitted as a member of the Underground Press Syndicate, a
global alternative-media collective.
In sixties Australia, each student
newspaper issue was keenly awaited and savoured in depth, and the uni rag could
wield an influence beyond the campus, being seen as a “credible participant in
shaping political discourse and challenging pubic policy”. A decline of the student newspaper followed,
however, and Wood dates its demise from the election of a reforming Whitlam
Labor government in 1972 which signalled not only a significant achievement of much
of the student agenda but also quelled most of the ferment.
The retrenchment of dissent was
accelerated by the market-based restructuring of higher education in which the
university increasingly became a business, Vice-Chancellors overpaid CEOs,
education a commodity, students consumers and a degree purely an instrumental
means to a vocational end.
Whilst the university culture,
including the student newspaper, has been profoundly and negatively effected by
this external economic context, there have been some own goals, too, says
Wood. Her prime culprit is a
post-Marxist ‘identity politics’ where race, ethnicity, sex, gender and
sexuality have sidelined a socialist class politics that had given a coherence
and solidarity to the disparate struggles of the oppressed.
“The preponderance of stories
about identity”, says Wood, would make the student newspaper of today “incomprehensible”
to an earlier generation of baby-boomer undergraduates. Whilst the economic and political foundations
of capitalism are not only now met with more assent than dissent, gone, too, is
“the university tradition of debate and the contest of ideas” in a world of
eggshell-vulnerable ‘identity’.
Whilst the uni rag of the sixties took
vigorous sides on issues, it also retained a robust commitment to free speech,
and free-wheeling intellectual exploration and debate, carrying articles
presenting all shades of opinion. Now,
however, in a student world of No Platforming, Monash University’s Lot’s Wife, for example, has a policy against
publishing ‘any material that is objectionable or discriminatory’, an “eerie
reminder”, says Wood, of the 1950s censorship of ‘objectionable’ literature.
Form, too, has deteriorated
along with content, adds Wood. The
“bland magazine” format of the current crop of student newspapers with their emphasis
on brevity and visuals rather than textual substance resembles an undisciplined
blog in tone and structure.
The student newspaper has not only
lost its capacity to épater le bourgeois
(to shock and outrage respectable opinion) but also its ability, and desire, to
dissect the bourgeoisie’s economic and political power. Wood’s call to “reinvigorate the student
magazines” of today with a healthy dose of sixties passion and politics
deserves to be answered.
